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The Order and The Lost
11. Amon Egrethore (1)

11. Amon Egrethore (1)

It would be something of an understatement to say that Lord Amon Egrethore was upset. Indeed, the only thing keeping him from going berserk was his own deep understanding of dark magic, and his willingness to use it, in conjunction with mental magics, to strongly and firmly dampen his emotions.

Dark magic’s one and only purpose was making things and people more receptive to other magics. It made enchantments easier, it made healing easier, made stone-shaping easier… but left alone, living things and dark magic simply did not mix. There were too many inherent magics within the human body, and when dark magic sapped you of your defenses, they corroded you from the inside.

Nevertheless, when Amon decided that he should calm down, he forced his body to do it, against its own will, and against his own better judgement. It was eerily calming, knowing that he could shut down every part of his mind and body except those he wished would remain. It had gotten him through several tough times in his life, and made several bad decisions much, much easier to make.

It also made it easy to simply choose not to regret them.

So now he wished away any love or respect for his dead son and focused on the future. He could feel the blank place in his soul where sympathy and regret should have been, but they only felt numb. And honestly, given what his son had just cost him, why should he spare even a moment’s thought for him? The fool.

No… it would be far better to frame Roan for the mess with the inspectors. After all, he had just attempted to kill his father, in open view of several guards and servants. The only trick was confessing this to the Order and the King, without it becoming common knowledge, and without making any direct lies which might be detected by a spell or special power. Like all trading houses, the Egrethore group needed to keep a clean image, whatever dirty things might happen in the background.

The biggest problem there was that Roan was his heir. Janinda would do fine at the job, in spite of not having been groomed for it; the larger issue was that there would be no way to conceal the change. Roan was well-known, and had been personally involved in a great many trade deals.

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Many dark thoughts crossed Amon’s mind, thoughts interrupted first by the mid-day meal, and second by his daughter’s report.

Janinda’s face was drawn. He had ordered her not to interrupt him in the next day unless it was urgent or good news; she didn’t look panicked, so it must be the latter. That thought relaxed him, and he let the intensity of the dark magic within him fade.

“Tell me, daughter. Have you gotten anything out of the girl?”

“Yes, and no. As I thought, she knew more than she let on. She knows that the metal was a form of bronze, but of course not the formulation. Easy enough to fix, if we can find samples at Roan’s facility. She also seems to know which essences were used, if perhaps not quite the ratio.” Janinda spent a long moment watching her father, as if weighing his ability to endure bad news.

“Go on.”

“She’s also mad. I asked her about her past and she collapsed. She said something about Roan having a wizard, who was responsible for what happened to her.”

A wizard? For a long moment, Amon thought about that placidly, as though he must have known about it and merely forgotten. But when he couldn’t come up with anything, the placidness disappeared. What wizard? I don’t… I’m not aware of any wizards coming here, not in years. Was it a lover of his? No, he wouldn’t ask a lover to enslave a whore…

Before he knew it, Janinda’s hand was on his shoulder, and he realized he’d been pacing. The stump of his arm ached from the increased blood pressure, and he felt light headed. Amon let her guide him to his chair, and waited while she called the healer and servants.

When finally she returned, he gestured for her to come close, so that he could whisper. “I know nothing of this. Roan should have had nothing to do with any wizards. You must look into this, immediately. If one is here, without our knowing… it could be a disaster. Far worse than those Order idiots.” He waved her back, as the healer approached, looking worried. “Go. I will be fine.”

Jani, her face conflicted, watched the healer treat her father for a few minutes, then stepped out into the hall. It took her a moment to decide exactly where to start. Roan didn’t have a lot of friends, and he didn’t fully trust his family or servants. Not many would have known who he associated with, or be able to spill his secrets now that he’s dead.

So she marched off towards her brother’s office, hoping that she had simply overlooked it the last time she’d ransacked the place.